


The Ghost of Anne Boleyn

by la_belle_chanteuse_anne



Category: The Other Boleyn Girl - Philippa Gregory, The Tudors (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:50:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4684223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_belle_chanteuse_anne/pseuds/la_belle_chanteuse_anne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For those of you who watched the tudors, this is essentially a revamped version of the dream sequence between Anne and Henry. For those of you that didn't, this is the story of Anne coming back to Henry before his death to get a few words in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost of Anne Boleyn

Greenwich 1574  
She knew his time was drawing to a close. She had been watching, of course she had, what else could she do? She had seen him love others and father his beloved son. She was happy for him, though it stung, how could it not? She and his others had been given leave to see him. Kitty had declined, she didn’t want to ever look upon him again. Katherine and she went both for their children, and for their love. Jane went for her son, though she had fallen out of love with Henry not long after her death.

She had gotten to see him weep at Jane`s words, at the announcement that he had doomed their son, at the angry hate in his once soft wife`s eyes. Or the way he stuck his nose up at Katherine like the petulant child he had been to her. Then finally it was her own turn.

She chose to appear, as ghosts often do, in the image she wanted seared in his mind. She wore soft yellow cut in the daring French style she had worn early in their marriage. She wanted to blind him with the sight of the woman he had loved from the time they had been happy. From the time they had a daughter in the cradle and hopes for a son.  
She entered his study in the sudden sort of way ghosts usually do. He seemed to be expecting her. He knew she would come, since the others had.

“Why are you here?” The voice she had once laughed with had grown sickly and old, it was more noticeable from here mere feet from him just how old he had gotten.  
“I have always been here. Naturally I came to see you when given the chance?” She raised her eyebrows at him, let him make what he would of her riddling.  
“Don’t toy with me Anne, you always toy with me” he smacked his hand on his desk and raised his creaking voice  
“She strode towards him “Who was the toy? Who loved and gave up everything their whole life for it, and in the end was left. Who among us has not gotten to see our child grow up Henry? Do not cast at me your own wrongs.”  
“Do you blame me Anne? Do you come to cast dark words at me, like Jane? Or to swear for your daughter’s inheritance of the throne, like Katherine?”  
“I came” I cleared my throat “because I loved you very much.”  
“Of all of you, how dare you be the one to say that to me?” He sounded like a wounded animal  
“Are you hurt because you did not know? Did you not know then that I loved you so dearly, that I was innocent? Or are you hurt because you have killed me? Because my memory, my daughter who looks at you with my eyes, have become a pustule rotting away the very core of your being?”  
“Anne!”  
“Goodbye Henry, enjoy your last days.”  
“Anne wait!”  
But Anne did not wait. She did not want to know through what manners he had led her to her death. Whether he had so little faith in her that he let foul whispers guide him, if he had knowingly killed her. She felt afraid for his answer. He died in January, the cold biting chill in the world below matching the snowstorm filling her lungs.


End file.
